


Bath

by cowboykylux



Series: Medieval Knight Kylo AU [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Fluff, Historical Accuracy, Kings & Queens, Kylo Ren in Love, Middle Ages, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-02-01 01:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21324157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: When Kylo returns from war, he returns covered from head to toe in grime and blood -- and is in desperate need for a bath. You give him one, and revel in the closeness of having him home once again.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Series: Medieval Knight Kylo AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537318
Comments: 6
Kudos: 113





	Bath

You are sitting in the throne room, when the news comes. All at once, someone bursts through the heavy stone doors, early morning light flooding into the spacious area with it. All helmets and veils turn towards the intrusion, the guards which have been sworn to watch you in your husband’s wake have their swords drawn, prepared.

But it is just a squire, a young boy out of breath, hair flopping in his face as he braces himself on his knees before bowing deeply before you.

“Your Majesty, they’ve arrived.” The squire announces, and your pulse jumps in excitement.

_Kylo is home,_ you think, elated, _he has come home_.

You are out of your throne in an instant, and before anyone can have a chance to react, you have lightly grabbed the squire’s hand and are running alongside him out of the hall.

“Bring me to him at once.” Your feet carry you swiftly through the long room, two lines of people on either side of the plush carpet bowing and curtsying as you pass them. “Please prepare the baths! He is sure to be covered from toe to nose in mud.” You laugh, unable to contain your joy.

You run after the squire as he takes you through the grounds to the back gate where Kylo and his Knights of Ren can be seen leading an impressively sized army just beyond the hills. Heavy bells are tolled and trumpets are sounded to alert the castle’s town of their arrival, and those living in the area all flock to the hillside where they await their loved ones.

You do not wait, however, and as the people cheer when the banners of Alderaan proudly wave in the morning mist, you abandon the squire, gathering your skirts in your hands as you push your legs ever faster.

Kylo is atop Samantha only until he sees you charging towards him. He halts his steed so that he may jump off of her, and soon he is closing the distance on foot between you.

Your bodies collide with a deafening applause from the crowds, and as the army rushes around you to meet with their wives, mothers and children they had missed, you embrace your husband. Your soul has soared high into the sky, you laugh and laugh has Kylo twirls your body around and around, refuses to let your feet touch the ground.

“Do you return to me in victory?” You work to yank his helmet off of his head, cup his mail-covered cheeks and kiss his dirt-stained lips. They are chapped, and they are bruised, but they kiss you back and he is alive and that is all that matters.

“I have brought another crown for you to wear.” Kylo says, and your eyes grow wide when this is no metaphor, when he sets you down just long enough that he can pull a golden and jewel encrusted headpiece, one with the most ornamentation you could have imagined.

“All hail King Kylo.” You grin, so proud of him, so proud of his army, your army. You appraise the state of him, the red splotches of adrenaline and border-line hysteria from the thrill of the win in his sparkling eyes, the way he is absolutely covered in dirt and dried blood. “You are filthy.”

Kylo only grins at you, teeth stained red from the battle he has so valiantly fought. He hoists you onto Samantha, climbing behind you. The horse only protests at the combined weight of the both of you for a moment, before she too is galloping through the town to catch up with the army.

The town makes way for the two of you, cheering and chanting in support of the King. They throw flower petals and confetti up into the air as the bells toll and the trumpets sound, music fit for a celebration. There would be a grand feast this night, a grand one indeed.

You leave Sam in the capable hands of the stable boys, and though he must be exhausted, Kylo chases you up the castle stairs, pinching at your back and thighs to keep you in high spirits, playful and simply so happy to be home, happy to be back with you.

He chases you all the way to the bathing room, where two large wooden tubs lined with linen to protect from splinters have been filled with boiling hot water. The water is filled with both all manner of natural oils that give it a healthy fragrance and beneficial properties, and flower petals for decoration which float to the top. The steam which rises from the basin fogs the glass of the windows, sticks to the inky black armor which Kylo has become so famous for. 

“Where are your wounds, O warrior king?” You ask, drawing a love heart into his chest-plate, closing your eyes and leaning up to kiss him properly, kiss him privately.

You swiftly remove his armor, all four layers of plate and chain, the protective padding which needs to be mended, slashes in the garment an evidence of an attempting stabbing. But when you peel away the last layer of sweat and blood crusted fabric, when he is standing naked before you, you find his flesh blessedly unmarred, save for a few nicks and scratches.

“They are far and few in between, none so deadly this time.” Kylo replies, a soothing thumb on your cheek as he licks hot copper into your mouth. “Will you join me?”

He means the bath, and you nod straight away. No one would be able to prevent you from staying right by his side, not now that he has returned after three weeks of a campaign. 

“Always.” You breathe, before you are shedding your own layers, a much faster endeavor than removing his armor. You leave it all on a heap on the floor, someone will come and take them away when you are done, you pay it no mind. “Help me in, I fear my knees are too weak whenever you are near, I can scarcely keep myself held upright, let alone climb into a tub.”

Kylo only grins at you, appraises your body. He has no doubt missed you in his time away, for you have missed him terribly, and he always has been so incredibly drawn to you. You give him your hand and he is a steady weight for you to lean on as you both step into the piping hot bath.

Baths like this were a luxury, a privilege, fit only for royalty. But royalty you were, and as you both sink down down down under the water, as your skin flushes and reddens at the heat of it, neither of you can hold in the great sigh of relief which leaves your lips.

Already Kylo looks cleaner. The loose dirt and particles have already begun to wash off, sinking to the bottom of the tub. But you know it will take some scrubbing to remove it all, so after a kiss or two, your wet hands drip over the basin for a moment so you may grab a small bar of soap and a wash cloth made of striped linen that has been set on a stool near the tub.

The grime is stubborn, but you are even more so, and with each pass of the lathered cloth, the water grows more and more cloudy. This is why the second tub has been prepared, so that once the dirt is removed, you both may lounge in the new, clean hot water. Simmering coals underneath it keep it from growing cold while you spend time in the first bath.

Washing the King is considered a true gift, nothing short of an honor. The monarchs before you would use their baths as a display of power, of wealth. At least three men or women would douse the King in perfumed water from golden goblets, would do so with their own heads bowed, grateful, thankful for the opportunity to serve the King so.

But you and Kylo have changed this, have deviated from the rules. No one is allowed in this sacred space, no one may see you or him together like this. It is an intimate time for you, and washing your husband’s skin is less of an honor and more of a bonding moment – not that the two of you could grow much closer.

Underneath the water, Kylo’s hands brush against your skin, caress your body, bring you to sit on his lap, straddling him. You smile as he tries to clean you in return, laugh as his touch tickles. There is still dirt underneath his fingernails, but he is far more concerned with cupping his palms and dousing your shoulders with the water to keep your exposed skin from shivering.

Playfully, you toss the cloth straight at his face, covering it entirely. He shakes it off and lunges for you, splashes water all across the stone floors, your laughs echoing loudly no doubt for all those in the hall outside to hear. You swim away from him, as far as the relatively small basin will allow, swim away until he snatches you round the middle, but you grab his jaw in your hand, hold it just an inch or two away from your own which he desperately wants to kiss.

“You do not make this easy, you know.” He growls, and you only raise your eyebrows in jest, as your other hand drifts down below the water to tease the thick patch of hair that leads down to his proud cock.

“Good, I should like to be as difficult as possible.” You muse, holding his face still as you come only close enough to rub the tips of your noses together, “It’ll keep you on your toes.”

Kylo rolls his eyes and you release him, thinking he’ll behave. He doesn’t, of course he doesn’t, his hands all over you as you attempt to scrub the muck out of his beautiful raven locks.

“I wish to wash your hair.” He pouts, hands already reaching for the pins which keep your hair tied up and away, purposefully left dry.

“No my darling, it was just washed a night ago.” You explain, ducking away from him, and he doesn’t like the sound of this, grumbles and is set to complain.

“But – ”

“You may wash it at the week’s end, I promise.” You cut him off with a kiss once you have cleansed his teeth with a bristled brush, once they shine white once more.

“How do I look?” Kylo asks, satisfied with that compromise.

“Handsome.” You reply honestly, and he grows shy, always grows shy when you compliment his features. “Let us move to the second bath, this one has gone thick with sludge.” You decide, his skin smooth and cleansed like new.

The second tub is meant for relaxing, for leisure. There are bundles of cloth wound and rolled into pillows, submerged in the water, and Kylo leans his head against one as he pulls your back to his chest.

Your knees stick out of the water slightly, and he slides his hands around you to cover them, lest you grow cold. Your head is nestled against his strong shoulder, face turned towards your husbands. He in turn, has his face to yours, and the two of you simply breathe in the scent of the clean water, press soft kisses to the corners of each other’s mouths.

“You have doubled the size of our kingdom with this win, you realize this?” You whisper with pride, and he smiles, for yes, he does.

“We will manage well.” Kylo is sure, his hands retreating from your knees to wedge between your thighs, simply enjoying the feeling of being sandwiched there. “Naboo was quick to surrender, they remember the kind ruling of my grandmother, and I have promised to uphold her legacy with pride. I hope for us to build a new castle there, the scenery rivals that of anything I have seen, you would no doubt love spending the summer months there.”

Kylo does not speak this much unless he is particularly excited about something, although his reserved tone would not dare betray such feelings. Still, you know him well enough now to know he is genuinely thrilled, pleased, even if his voice is soft and low.

“Tell me of it.” You encourage as you let your eyes close, let yourself imagine the place which your husband has won for you.

“It is the Lake Country, this I am certain of. Grand cascading lakes which fall off the side of cliffs, which send spray sparkling into the sky. Light glitters like diamonds on the blue of the water, I have never seen such a serene place. Alderaan will be better for it, with this victory.” Kylo’s hands trace idle patterns against your skin, and you can feel his fingertips have begun to turn into raisins.

“I do believe some celebration of your victory is in order when we remove ourselves from this bath.” You grin, grasping his hands in your own, twining the fingers together.

“Celebration of what sort, goddess divine?” Kylo asks, cheeky, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

“First I think I shall ride you into oblivion, and then we shall feast and dance with the people, honor the soldiers who have fought so well beside you.” You go nearly cross-eyed to look at him from such an angle as the one you are in, but still you can see the way a dark hunger pools in his eyes.

“Pray tell, why must we wait for the bath to be over to begin such a celebration?” He licks his lips, and you can only bite at his lower lip, bruise the reddened flesh there.

“Because I want to be in our bed when you make me scream.” You whisper against his lips.

He is moving comically quickly when he manhandles you so you both can stand, can climb over the tub and onto the soft floor mat so neither of you slip on the wet stone floor. All at once he is breaking the peace with his newfound excitement and eagerness, and you laugh and yelp as he does only as much as wrap a long sheet around you tying one only around his hips, before he hoists you up and over his shoulder with ease.

There are many a back passage to the royal bedchambers, and you know that his expert legs will carry you to your bed with ease, where he can then absolutely make you scream.

As you lightly punch his strong back in jest, you are only glad that you suggested such a thing once the two of you were clean.


End file.
